


cowards bend at the knees

by green_postit



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_postit/pseuds/green_postit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a matter of escalation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cowards bend at the knees

It's a matter of escalation. 

Hotel suites for abandoned hallways, against locked doors with _Do Not Disturb_ signs swinging from the handle. They fuck in the kitchen before the dinner rush, in the bar with the bartender's back turned. 

It's the backseat of his limo, the backseat of a taxi. Soundproof glass slides up, cash thrown at an empty passenger's seat. Tinted windows preserve modesty; drivers silenced by fistfuls of cash, silenced by his family name. 

It's Dan's mouth on his cock, Chuck clawing his neck. 

It's Chuck laughing under his breath, Dan spitting across his shoulder. 

It's their arrangement.

\--

Books topple around them.

Nate's fingers slide against dusty metal, slippery, tongue caught between his teeth, eyes squeezed tight. Sobs stifled by will power.

"You're going to get us caught," Dan mutters, soft, lulling. Lips ghost over the head of Nate's cock, mouth moist, fingers rubbing the base. He sucks at the head, once, firm, releases. Licks his lips and strokes Nate's shaft. 

Nate hisses, moans, knocks his head against the shelf. _Great Expectations_ falls next to Dan. 

"Fitting," he chuckles, whisper quiet, eyes sparkling. 

"Please," Nate begs, voice thick, breaks. "P-please. I can't—"

"Ya," Dan interrupts, swallows. "Sure thing."

\--

Champagne. Smoke. Tabs of E passed from tongue to tongue.

People giggle and stampede past their room, the party muted behind the door. 

The throb of the bass vibrates through the floorboards. Nate feels it in his knees, up his legs, in his throat where Chuck's cock splits his mouth in two.

He's drunk, lightheaded. He feels Chuck's hand on the back of his neck, his nails on his skin. He's vaguely aware he's drooling, come and spit dripping from his chin in messy strings. 

It's sudden. 

Chuck pulls out, arches back, hisses sharply. 

Come hits Nate's cheeks and lips.

\--

They skip P.E, do lines off their chemistry book in the park.

Chuck leans back on the grass, lets his head swell with the drugs, his skin buzz. His teeth tingle numbly and his fingertips flare like fire. 

"They're going to catch us." Nate repeats, twitches. He's tweaked from the blow, jittery and paranoid. 

Chuck rubs his brow, irritated. "And?"

"Fuck, if—if my dad finds out—fuck—he'll—"

" _Christ_ ," he snaps. "Shut the fuck up, already."

"But—"

"You're Nathaniel Archibald." Deft fingers, only slightly clumsy, Nate's pants tugged down, Chuck's mouth filled with his cock, necessity more than desire. "You'll be fine."

\--

They're behind the fortune telling tent.

Nate smells like butter and popcorn, Dan like burnt sugar and cherry Sweet Tarts. Cobwebs of spun sugar cling to Dan's sweater, tangle in his thick eyelashes, melt into their mouths. 

They smile when they kiss. Coy nips, bodies pressed together. Nate licks across Dan's lips, tastes the sickly sweetness of the sugar, the bitter coffee, the ash from his cigarettes. 

"Someone's coming," Dan groans around Nate's tongue. 

"Besides you?"

"I'm ser—"

Nate slides to his knees, pries Dan's thighs apart. He devours him in little swallows, tastes grape Pez when Dan comes.

\--

He's on the steps of The Met.

It's damp from rain. Humphrey smokes, despite the air clinging like Spackle. 

Chuck watches his chapped lips. Grows hard. 

Humphrey notices. 

"What do you want, Chuck?"

"I think that's obvious." He grips Humphrey's jaw, tugs his chin to the swell in his pants. "You weren't given a mouth like this for nothing." 

He glares. "Not here. You don't have the balls."

Chuck smiles, rubs his thumb along Humphrey's lip, unzips with his other hand. 

He doesn't break eye contact when Dan leans forward, watches as he's engulfed to the hilt.

It's their arrangement.


End file.
